Adventures in Home Improvement
by The-other-8th-wonder
Summary: Sam has everything he wanted: A wife (his Mercedes), a kickass job and rickety white (ish) picket fence. With an old house willed to him from his grandfather and a baby on the way, he's racing against an encroaching due date, a hormonal wife, a new job, and a house with a growing repairs list. He will build the house of their dreams. Or die trying.
1. Chapter 1

_**Hey! I don't know what this is. Actually this is what happens when you watch too much HGTV (and don't know what the hell you are watching). Let me know if you want me to continue this or if it's crap that shouldn't have seen the light of day. **_

_**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything and I if I did, I wouldn't want to own Glee. **_

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><p>Mercedes coughed and wiped the cobwebs away from her face. She was pretty tough but if she saw a spider, she couldn't be held responsible for her actions, or the squeal that was sure to follow. The dusty wooden floors screeched when you stepped on them, and the old caked on curtains were so dirty, she was afraid to touch them and let light in to the dark living room. And the smell. Don't get her started on the smell. It was as if a sweaty gym sock and year old food was put in a blender and poured in the vents. She wasn't a carpenter but wasn't a musty smell a bad sign?<p>

"Are you sure this place is safe?"

Sam stood behind his wife and wrapped his arms around her waist. Well, more like her ribcage. She was short and his back hurt from lugging her suitcases of beauty products from their crammed two bedroom apartment in Ohio to their stuffed moving truck. And driving the 6 hours from Lima to Tennessee made his injury hurt like a bitch. He bent, winced a little and kissed her neck. "Babe. I promise. I already spoke to the inspector. He said besides the cosmetic stuff, this place is good as new." His infectious smile wasn't so infections when Mercedes swung around and steeled her gaze in his direction.

But before she could voice her doubt she saw movement out the corner of her eye. Movement that included a tail and squeaking.

"Sam," she shrieked. Usually Sam loved his wife's voice. Usually. But when her eyes got all cold and narrow he knew her scary quiet voice was on its way. That voice usually preceded lonely nights and lumpy couches. And also made him weirdly aroused. "Was that a mouse? I _know_ that wasn't a mouse. I will not share a house with Mickey Mouse, Sam. You get him out of here and make sure his friends aren't around or so help me I will drive this truck to a hotel and move in." She tapped his chest lightly, beginning to walk away but Sam used her momentum to hold her closer. He loved holding her, feeling her soft belly swell day to day.

"Come on sweetheart it's not so bad. This place just needs your TLC and it'll be the best house in the state."

Mercedes rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in a gesture that let Sam know she thought his statement was bullshit.

He deepened his voice and placed sweet kisses along her jaw, nuzzled his nose into her neck. She smelled so sweet. Always.

"Come on baby, Give it a chance." Using his low timbre always got her to concede. Always.

_Give me a chance. _Mercedes knew she had to let him do this, she could see how important it was to him. The house had been in his family for generations. Growing up, he'd spent many a summer here and Mercedes always wanted to visit the place that brought her husband so many happy memories. When his grandparents died last year, they gifted the house to him. Actually they gifted the house to Sam and Mercedes' children leaving Sam and Mercedes guardianship until their oldest was of age. Which is why when Sam suggested moving down here instead of buying that 4 bedroom 3 bathroom _gorgeous_ move-in ready mini mansion near downtown Lima they were _thisclose_ to closing on, she reluctantly agreed. Mercedes could write music anywhere and it wouldn't hurt to take her doctor's advice to slow down. Sam found a job remarkably fast so there was nothing left to do but pack her life away and move to the unknown.

"_Fine," _she ground out. "But you're calling an exterminator first thing in the morning. And we're not setting foot back in here until they give the okay."

He nodded.

"_And_ we're staying in that hotel until this house is liveable."

It would eat into their nest egg, but Sam learned a long time ago that Mercedes was always right. A happy pregnant Mercedes made for a peaceful life. "That makes sense."

"_And_ we're heading to that Shake Shack in town and getting a banana milkshake before we get to the hotel." She stood on the tips of her toes and gave him a kiss on his lips. Her glowing smile returned and Sam melted a little at the sight. His wife was so beautiful. Stunning, really. Every day he pinched himself, not believing that she was really his.

"Thank you babe. I love you." Sam leaned forward and bent slightly, pressing his forehead on his wife's. Pained back be damned!

Mercedes held on to his face and cupped it in her hands. "Love you too. Thank you for taking care of us. Now let's get out of here before the roof caves in."

Sam looked up and saw the sloped ceiling. Mercedes was right. The roof looked one bad snowstorm (or rain, or hell, even wind gust) away from being a sunroof. Sam sighed. The house won for today. But this was far from over. He wouldn't be defeated. He was going to make this place into Mercedes' dream house, he was going to make his pop pop proud and he was going to be the best husband and provider around.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Okay I'm going to continue this. Thanks so much to anyone who reviewed/followed. **_

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><p>Mercedes rubbed her belly absentmindedly while twirling the purple pencil in her hand. She'd never tire of feeling the flutters on her stomach which made the baby more real. Sam felt them first. He was accustomed to laying his hand over her stomach while they slept and being awaked at 2am by a glassy-eyed Sam last month was worth it when she felt the flutters for the first time too. She shook her head at him but there may have been a little mist in her eyes (not that she'd admit it) when he laid his head on her stomach and began singing to their baby. Mercedes fell asleep at the sound of his crooning while she gently stroked his hair.<p>

A smile stretched across her face at the memory. Sam was going to be an incredible father and in four short months their son was set to make his way into the world. Before getting back to her songbook, Mercedes typed out a quick text to Sam and grinned when she read his response

_I miss you too babe. _

As she tapped her fuzzy sock covered toes on the burgundy carpet, Mercedes closed her eyes and willed her muse to strike but to no avail. Mercedes had nothing. Thirty minutes in front of her book and all she produced was a single line and some funky drawings of a sun and flower dancing. The melody was clear in her mind, she hummed a little of the chorus but the words escaped her.

Without a studio in sight and no clients to write for, Mercedes was bored. And a bored Mercedes was a dangerous thing. In the first week of her hiatus she'd tried making homemade toothpaste (which tasted like peppermint-flavored dirt), clipped coupons well into the New Year and signed up her and Sam for pregnant couples' yoga. She was cooped up in the hotel room, her stuff scattered between the large suitcases by the door and the storage space a few miles down the road they rented until their home was ready. Bored and alone, Mercedes decided it was past time to explore the town.

Plus Mercedes felt guilty.

Because while she was sitting around contemplating whether to try making homemade deodorant, Sam was hard at work. Mercedes could see the toll doing construction took. His skin was sunburnt, his hands more calloused than years of strumming the guitar, and sleep was elusive. Yet, he never complained, not once. Not even when she saw the bags under Sam's eyes and he faked a smile, or when he moved stiffly but straightened up as soon as he felt her eyes on him. Not when he got in at midnight or was jostled out of sleep because of an emergency on the project he was helping to build. Through it all Sam just kept a smile on his face and thanked her for making him soggy sandwiches and throwing in salty chip bags for lunch.

And here she was wasting time.

Mind made up, Mercedes put on some real socks, grabbed her shoes and swiped her bag from the bed. She was going to go to the hardware store, the furniture store, the local arts and crafts store, anywhere that she could get Sam some items for his own room. He'd been so focused on building her a dream home, he forgot that the dream wouldn't be complete without him in it. And a place he could call his own. With 5 bedrooms, they had plenty of space to accommodate a drawing room for him. Hell, she wasn't opposed to a man cave, she just wanted Sam to a space for himself. And Sam couldn't be mad at her for ignoring doctor's orders when she resolved to make sure he had a kick ass space for himself.

So there she was in the local hardware/furniture/arts and crafts store (Or Walworld) munching on her carrot sticks and peanut butter crackers (she found eating 6 small meals a day was a sure-fire way to avoid packing on the pregnancy pounds) and trying to find Sam a desk. This place was unlike any Walmart she'd ever seen. It had a restaurant, an automobile service center, an eye care center. There was even a place to take professional portraits. She could live in here, and would probably have to, she surmised while looking at the gargantuan checkout lines. And what was the deal with the overflowing 'Christmas Shoppe' section in August? Was that really helping anyone? Pure greed. Mercedes rolled her eyes and kept her focus on finding tools for the house.

When she got to the hardware section there was no surprise they were doing tutorials on how to install hardwood floors. Perfect! She took out her notepad and diligently wrote down the steps. It all seemed so easy. Maybe she could buy some hardwood and start working on the floors. It wasn't fair that Sam had been doing all the work on the old house. They were in this together. And that meant they were going to work on renovating the place together.

She bought a drill, a nail gun, and a mallet. Luckily she listened to Sam when he rattled off the room dimensions. So she bought the dark cherry wood and got a little extra in case she made a mistake. If this turned out good, she could come back and get more for the living room and bedrooms. As the workers piled her items on two flatbeds, she munched on her carrots and veered over to the baby section. Sam was going to love the floors.

Mercedes could imagine the look on her husband's face when he saw what she'd done.

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><p>Sam was locking up the house and heading back to the site after his lunch break. He'd been taking his breaks (and weekends) to fix up the house, hoping he could move up the three month timetable so he and Mercedes could move in before the baby was born.<p>

He couldn't wait to see the look on his wife's face when she saw the progress. After Mercedes' comments about the roof he had a second inspector come in. Luckily the problem was just some paneling that had fallen from the drop ceiling, a drop ceiling he planned to remove with the quickness. Unluckily, the inspector found a colony of carpenter ants and electrical problems which meant fumigations, electricians, labor costs and more weekends working to cover the costs. In the two weeks that they'd moved, there seemed to be more problems than solutions and he could tell Mercedes was getting antsy.

Sam was just cleared to go back into the house a few days ago and he'd been working on knocking down the wall between the living and dining rooms for a more open floor plan feel. He was eager to make up for the lost time. Wincing, he popped two aspirins and guzzled some water behind it. All this lifting and hauling was killing him but if it made Mercedes happy, if it brought them closer to living in this house, he'd take a second job and work all night with no hesitation.

Hearing his phone buzz, he looked down, smiled at his wife's text and sent one back of his own.

He could see the progress every day. The crew (who he was quickly learning were some of the greatest people he ever met) volunteered their time and tools to help out on the weekends while he told his wife he was working at the site. He'd already fixed the ceiling, removed the horrible wallpaper from the wall, removed carpeting from the upstairs bedrooms and demolished the master bathroom. Piece by piece, little by little it was coming together.

But the room he was drawn to was his son's. Every day before he left, he stopped in the room and took in its emptiness.

Sam remember sleeping in the room as a kid and as soon as he turned the knob (and ignored the moth ball scent) he knew this was the space for his son. It was a few doors down from the master bedroom and had a perfect view of the spacious backyard. He could see a crib in one corner, a changing station and rocking chair in another. He imagined tons of teddy bears, a little dresser and blue everywhere. It was going to be perfect.

He was in his car now, heading back to the job humming to some song on the radio when he heard his wife's name over the radio.

"_We're back and bringing you new music from my girl, multi-platinum recording artist Cerah featuring someone named Mercedes Jones, who the hell is that? Well anyway, here goes…"_

His ears perked up and he pulled to the side of the road, shaking as he dialed his wife's number and listened to her sweet voice on the radio.

Mercedes was thanking the two sales associates for grabbing the humidifier and quilt set from the top shelves when she heard her phone vibrate.

But before she said hello she heard her voice in the background.

Overwhelmed she pressed the phone closer to her ear and placed her hand over her mouth. Later Mercedes would blame the pregnancy hormones for the tears pooling in her eyes.

This couldn't be real.

She worked with Cerah on her album for a year and one delirious night in the studio lent her voice to one of the tracks the producers said was too depressing for the album.

They must have changed her mind because her voice was booming through the phone. Her. Voice.

She just listened in awe, quiet for a few seconds after the song ended.

"_That track is fire! I don't know who Mercedes Jones is but I think it's time we all got familiar with that voice."_

Mercedes beamed in the middle of the aisle. She couldn't care less that people had to move around her.

"Sam…"

On the other end Sam sucked in a deep breath and tried to rein in his emotion. His girl was a star, now it seems everyone was cluing in on something he'd known since he first met her.

"I'm _so_ proud of you baby." The emotion in his voice made her realize that was real. She'd just listened to herself on the radio and she sounded amazing!

She was in stasis for a few more minutes before her phone ring again. Mercedes knew her life was about to change.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer Time: I don't own Glee or the song mentioned. Glee's owned by some shysters and the awesome song mentioned is Musiq Soulchild's_ Greatestlove_.**

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><p>"No"<p>

"_Sam_." Mercedes sighed as she watched Sam pace the small room and remove the clothes from her suitcase that she just packed. "It'll only be for a few days."

They'd been having this argument for what felt like weeks. The record company wanted to capitalize on the song's success. They offered Mercedes a record deal and an opportunity to open for Cerah on her World Tour. Press junkets, late night talk show appearances- it was everything she dreamed of since she was a teenager belting about respect and wishing some would get tossed her way.

"I don't like this." Sam plopped himself on the bed and pouted like a petulant child. He waved his hand and shook his head to emphasize his point. His five month pregnant wife with doctor's orders to remove all stress from her life could not go on tour. Not. Happening.

She just couldn't. Especially when the demands of writing every song on Cerah's new album caused her to spot in her third month. They came too close to losing the baby. _He_ came too close to losing her. Maybe that's why Sam moved admittedly too fast (and a little haphazardly) to get them away from Ohio and to a simpler life away from their friends, families, and jobs.

He was proud as all get out that her song, her voice was on the radio, but Sam wouldn't trade her success for her health. Or their baby's life.

"I've wanted this opportunity my whole life. I can't turn away now. I know that you are worried but we'll be fine. I _promise_." One of the reasons she'd agreed to move was because she saw how scared Sam was when he opened the door to the bathroom at their old apartment and found her on the floor holding her stomach in agony. It scared her too, thinking how close she came to losing their baby.

But this was her dream. She couldn't let go of her dream so easily, could she?

Sam was overreacting. Pregnant women worked and travelled all over the world every day. What happened during her third month was an isolated incident. She'd been very careful since then. Mercedes was going on this tour and on TV all while taking care of this baby and Sam. Stubbornly, she grabbed the clothes Sam pulled out of her suitcase and threw them back in the overflowing leopard luggage set Sam bought her a few Christmases ago.

"I can't lose you." His whispered plea broke her resolve. It shook her. Sam stilled her hand and dropped her shirt from its clutches. Then, Sam took his arm and wrapped it around her waist pulling her closer. He closed his eyes so the tears wouldn't fall and he dropped his head to her slightly protruding stomach. "I can't lose either of you."

"Sam-"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm not strong enough to tell you to follow your dreams this time. I'm sorry I'm being selfish as hell. I just…I just need you safe, baby. I need you close."

Mercedes considered his words as she stroked his hair. He'd always been so selfless with her. When she agreed they should break up after his father found work in another state, he didn't argue. When he posted her video to prove that her dreams could become a reality, he pretended not to be devastated when that dream took her far away from him. And when they decided to part ways during her first tour choosing not to hold on so tight to their love that it frayed, instead of falling into bitterness and resentment, he held her and smiled though he was dying inside. Sam always deferred to her wishes. Always. To the point she assumed they agreed on everything. But looking back that wasn't true. Mercedes knew Sam picked his battles and when he was passionate about something he wouldn't let it go.

So when she heard the tremble in his voice, she realized just how much her pregnancy scare affected him. She couldn't ignore his very valid fears and she wouldn't pass up this opportunity.

"I have to do this Sam, but I don't want to worry you and I can't put our baby at risk. There has to be a way to do both. Can we figure out a way that I could do both?"

And figure out a way they did. She and Sam talked all night and decided that Mercedes would close the shows close to Tennessee. Luckily Cerah agreed to this and got the promoters to add Memphis as a location so Mercedes could join the tour there, in Nashville, and in nearby Lexington, Kentucky. She'd do satellite interviews and local radio appearances but if at any time it was getting to be too much, she would bow out. Mercedes spent the rest of the night on the phone with Cerah and her producers. They were surprisingly amenable to her conditions and were able to work out a schedule that wasn't too demanding, but could get her enough exposure so that people would know Mercedes' name and be excited about buying a solo album. Exhausted, they fell asleep on top of her clothes and Sam kicked her suitcase off the bed while wrapping his arm around his wife.

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><p>For the first Saturday since they got to Tennessee, Sam slept in and he awoke to Mercedes humming a song while grabbing utensils in their kitchen suite.<p>

Mercedes sang about how good they harmonized together and how their love was like a perfect melody that kept getting better, standing the test of time. He watched her spin in those adorable fuzzy socks and intermittently sing into the butter knife then grab the butter from their tiny fridge. She was so adorable with her gold UCLA sleep shirt that skimmed her upper thighs and her blue silk scarf wrapped on her head. Sam stood and stretched, ruffling his hair while making his way to his wife.

"Good morning." Mercedes greeted her husband with a kiss, tilting her head back and standing on the tips of her toes to do so.

"Morning Babe." He made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face. "What's all that?" he asked around a mouth full of toothpaste—store-bought toothpaste, not his wife's homemade dirt paste.

"Nothing fancy. Just the hungry man special from that breakfast spot down the road: Biscuits, gravy, grits, eggs, pancakes, sausage, bacon, home fries and fried apples." She turned around as Sam walked into the kitchen area and went to pour him a cup of coffee. "And this." She wiggled her eyebrows and offered him the hazelnut blend of his favorite drink. "I knew the smell would wake you up. Me walking around looking for my wallet, the knock on the door, me paying for the food and talking to the delivering man –none of it made you even _shift_ in your sleep. A few more minutes and I would have checked to make sure you were still alive."

"Oh trust me I'm _very_ much alive." Sam pulled her closer and pressed himself onto her in a way that let her knew exactly what he meant. Mercedes was not in the mood for his low-rumble sex voice or what that voice did to her. Sam grinned as Mercedes swatted at his chest and moved to a chair on the island. "I was having the most amazing dream and I didn't want to wake up." He took a sip of his coffee and moaned. He was one of those people who needed coffee in the morning to function and no, he wasn't ashamed of that fact for a minute. Plus, he didn't know what Mercedes did but he swore his wife's coffee could rival Starbucks—or the Lima Bean for that matter—any day of the week.

"Thanks baby, this smells incredible."

Mercedes smiled and grabbed a plate, reaching for some fruit salad. Thankfully the smells didn't have her heaving in a toilet. Morning sickness was a stone cold mercenary that took no prisoners and Mercedes was more than happy that that particular phase in her pregnancy was over.

As Mercedes rolled her eyes, she saw Sam still grinning and followed his line of vision to her legs swinging from the chair. Her height (or lack of it) never ceased to make him laugh. She didn't see the humor. Especially since she always thought she was average height.

"Not funny."

Sam dropped his smile and tried not to respond to the ridiculously put-out look on her face, complete with an adorable pout. "Sorry, small fry. Short stack. Shorty doo wop. You're just so _tiny_." As always, he spoke around a mouth of food.

"Proud of yourself?"

"Um hmm." He grinned and stuffed some pancakes in his mouth.

Mercedes shook her head and grabbed a glass of water. "So I was thinking we should go to the house today."

"No!" Sam wanted to surprise her with all the progress he made. If she saw it now she would only see the holes in the wall, the rust in the sink, the exposed wires and beams and piles of debris. She wouldn't see the potential, the fortress he knew it would become for their family. Besides, he didn't want his pregnant wife in their new place until the air was fully clear of paint, dust and funk.

Mercedes brows rose at his exclamation. "_Okay_." She drew the word out and tucked her lips in her mouth. Mercedes wanted to surprise Sam with her hardwood floors, which were still at the store ready for pick up. But Sam seemed determined to keep her away from the house and she knew he had a reason. If only he'd share that reason with her. Didn't help matters that she couldn't really surprise him with hardwood floors if the hardwood floors weren't installed yet.

Sighing, Mercedes plopped down on the bed and began picking up the clothes left strewn near the bed the night before. Sam was washing the dishes and putting the take out into the tiny fridge. But each time he had to manipulate the fridge to make room or had to drive to the storage place to grab something he grew increasingly frustrated. Each day they grew more displaced and he wondered when, or if, this renovation would be complete.

He looked over at his wife, who was now reading over her meticulous directions to make homemade soap and decided that for today that wouldn't focus on the house or the hotel. He'd focus on something that got him through many a trial—that he had Mercedes and Mercedes had him. "Hey babe."

Mercedes was pouring the baking soda into a bowl and Sam just knew the end result wouldn't be any soap he'd use. "Why don't we go out today?"

Mercedes looked up at him like she was a 5-year-old and he just told her they were going to Disney. She was planning on doing some more exploring today since she found a kitschy home furnishing store a few towns over that she wanted to visit but when she realized Sam wasn't working today, she wanted to make sure he got some much needed rest. Plus she wanted to spend as much time as she could with Sam, even if that meant just being in his presence while he justifiably slept the day away. "Really? You want to go out?"

"Yeah." He drummed his hands on his thighs, thinking of something they could do. "How about we go to the movies?

She jumped from the chair and went to their coupon box to see if she had a coupon for the local theatre. "Yes! See three dollars off the matinee price. We could see that movie about the alien robots who come to earth and teach humans how to feel." She laughed. "That sounds so horrible." Mercedes couldn't wait to see it.

"If by horrible you mean awesome then yeah that movie sounds horrible." He grinned and planted a kiss on his wife's cheek. "What time does it start?"

"An hour, hour and 10 minutes."

He playfully swatted at her butt. "Then let's get going."

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><p>After paying for their tickets and grabbing gummy bears (his favorite), licorice sticks (her favorite) pretzel bites and soda, Sam made his way to Mercedes, who'd found the perfect spot to watch the movie.<p>

Sam and Mercedes were a moviegoers' nightmare. What with Mercedes (with annoying accuracy) predicting the whole movie within the first few minutes and Sam trying to do impressions of the characters voices he found interesting, people usually gave the couple a wide berth a few minutes into the movie. And there may have been a time in the not so distant past when they were kicked out of the Lima Optiplex 8 and told never to come back again. Although Sam apologized, Mercedes telling the manager she didn't want to sit through a movie in the theater's busted ass seats anyway surprisingly didn't make the manager want to lift the ban.

20 minutes in and Sam was fine tuning his impersonation of the sergeant that tried to detain the robots in jail. Mercedes was snorting (as softly as she could) while rolling her eyes at the shushing sounds from the people around her. "You sound just like him babe." She fed Sam a gummy bear and giggled when he playfully nibbled on her fingers.

10 minutes later and Mercedes was whispering in Sam's ear. "See, I told you the sergeants' daughter would fall in love with the robot leader." Instead of her usual affirmation from Sam she was met with the sound of evened out breathing. Turning, she looked over at her husband who was dead asleep in a movie he talked about wanting to see. Mercedes smiled and cuddled into Sam, her thoughts were a million miles away from the movie.

The usher woke them up with a flashlight to the face long after the credits rolled. It was almost 4 and both were hungry so they made their way to a local diner. Sam ordered a bacon cheeseburger (Seriously, where did it all go?) while Mercedes had a grilled cheese sandwich with spinach and tomatoes and some tomato bisque.

While they were eating Sam had his arm wrapped around his wife's shoulders. He told her about the project at work, the demands of his foremen and client. He left out the fact that he was nearly done building the baby's crib and couldn't wait until she saw the finished product. Meanwhile Mercedes told him about how anxious she was for her satellite interview next week. They'd talked about how nervous (more on Mercedes' end) and excited (more on Sam's) they were about the baby and her upcoming appointment.

While Mercedes was sipping her soup Sam asked, "What do you think about Logan for our son?"

In the past few weeks, Sam had mentioned every superhero known to man as a potential name for their kid. She'd politely turned down Bruce, Clark, Clint and Steve. Thor was met with a ''are you out of your damn mind?"

But Logan she liked. She liked a lot.

Mercedes smiled and the expression took Sam back to high school and her smile when he suggested singing telegrams to raise money for their group, the God Squad. He remembered that flutter he got in his chest. How his heart raced a little faster and how he could think of nothing more important than seeing it again. Her smile took Sam's breath away then.

Still did after all these years.

"Logan Evans. I really like it."

Sam grinned and grabbed his card from the small black cardholder feeling like the luckiest man in the world.

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><p>They were on their way back to the hotel when Mercedes saw a lot filled with slabs of granite. She would have been out this way sooner had she known they were so close to a granite showroom. They needed granite for the kitchen and island countertops and Mercedes just wanted to check something off of their growing 'to do' list.<p>

"It wouldn't hurt to check it out right?"

Sam knew there was no point in resisting so he let his wife lead him into the huge lot.

"Sam…"

That was all she had to say before Sam told the service worker that was the one they wanted. The heart eyes she gave the granite coupled with the way her small hands never left the slab was confirmation enough.

Mercedes oohed over the countertop, running her hands over the cool surface. The slab was perfect: black smooth granite with flecks of gold spread throughout. It looked like the night sky and Mercedes fell in love at first sight.

Sam tried to keep a pleasant face, but he was panicking. Twinge-in-his-chest panicking. That counter top cost more than he ever wanted pay for a counter top. Way more than their budget allowed. He'd already dipped into their kitchen funds with the 4k TV and the new surround system. Sam tried to calculate the costs in his mind, see how much this purchase would topple their budget, but math wasn't his forte.

Neither were splurges.

But the look on Mercedes' face was all he needed. She was the main reason he was even in this store. And what his baby wanted, his baby got. So he'd cut a few corners, make a few sacrifices (Goodbye heated kitchen floors and dark cherry hardwood) and work a few more hours to get this counter top.

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><p>Mercedes grabbed a milkshake and Sam a smoothie from the sundry as they walked around town. The sun had set, the granite showoom had closed and there was a slight chill in the air. And among the town's most beautiful features was its promenade—the 6-block boardwalk with lit walkways and local shops lining the way.<p>

"I can't believe this town has a promenade and a sundry. This feels like the '50's." Mercedes glared at the older woman who frowned at the couple with her beady little eyes zeroed into Sam and Mercedes' interlaced hands. "Racism and all."

Seeing the gesture Sam picked up their hands and kissed Mercedes, something he'd done countless times before, and something he knew would piss the wrinkled lady off now. Sure enough she scoffed and looked away. "Things are changing, babe. With every one of the narrow minded assholes ready to spew hate there's a decent person that believes no one should be treated better or worse because of their skin tone or religion, or who they love. "

"Yeah things are changing, but are they changing for the better or the worst? I don't know Sam, looking at what's happening all over the world now and looking back at what happened 30, 40, hell 50 years ago it all looks the same." Being a black girl in Lima made her acutely aware of her race at all times. Lima was looking like New York City when compared to the diversity in this little town. Now Mercedes felt that a spotlight was pointed at her, one that followed her wherever she went in the town and let her know she didn't belong. She leaned her head on her husband's arm and asked, "Do you think it will be a better world for our son?"

Sam thought about it, letting a beat pass by answering. "I don't know babe, but I do know we'll teach him his own worth. That he came from kings and hillbillies and the world will treat him unfairly for a number of things but that there's nothing wrong with him, it's just currency for being a king in a world that tries to turn kings into paupers. And he'll know there's something greater, higher than this world. And love makes life worth living."

Mercedes nodded and held Sam's hand tighter, drawing strength she didn't know she needed.


End file.
